


this is where the feeling sinks in (i dont wanna miss you like this)

by intolauren



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 22:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14681199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intolauren/pseuds/intolauren
Summary: Post 3x18.A tragic event in National City makes Kara and Lena question their mistakes and everything they mean to each other.





	this is where the feeling sinks in (i dont wanna miss you like this)

**Author's Note:**

> this is set like 6 months after where we're at on the show and everything is canon except sam was/is never reign (bc i refuse to have lena lose sam okay I REFUSE) 
> 
> i wrote this in a post-ultimates depression (i miss chyler so much you guys) so i'm sorry if a lot of this is sad but i promise it has a happy ending :) 
> 
> as always, all mistakes and typos are mine because i never have the patience to edit and go over my fics more than once. 
> 
> also a lot of the events at the beginning of this are memories i have from the ariana grande concert last year and since it's coming up to a year since the event, i'm having a lot of emotions and thoughts etc and writing is kind of like therapy for me. so obvious trigger warnings for all of that <3

It’s been hours, days even, and she can still hear the ringing in her ears, still smell the burning (of metal or flesh she isn’t sure), can still taste the panic in her mouth, the screams of the thousands of people around her that would never really be heard, still see the blood smeared everywhere, the crying faces of strangers she suddenly had wanted to hold and protect but couldn't, still feel the churning in her stomach and the tightness in her chest and the unshed tears behind her eyes.

She’d held it together, she’d had to, she’d had to make sure she got herself home, make sure her friends were safe and reassured that she was fine even if it meant saying those words over and over and smiling and pretending her legs weren't trembling and she couldn't taste acid in her mouth. 

But now she’s alone, she can’t stop reliving it. Now she’s alone, she can’t breathe. Now she’s finally alone after days of having places to be and responsibilities to keep and work to do that keeps her mind occupied, she can’t stop thinking, can’t stop crying.

It doesn’t make sense really, that she’s so affected. Another attempt on Lena Luthor’s life is so common that it barely makes headlines anymore. 

But this time it had been different. 

This time it hadn’t even been about _her_. Which somehow makes it so much worse.

That night was supposed to have been one of the best nights of her life. She’d been looking forward to it for months, counting down the days even. It had been that one thing that made the shittiest and most stressful of days worthwhile because even those days meant she was one day closer. She didn't care that it was dumb for an adult woman to be counting down the days to a pop concert. There really wasn't much Lena had to be excited about in her life nowadays, so she’d be damned if anyone made her feel like she couldn't be excited for this.

She’d tried not to think about the ticket shoved in her dresser drawer with Kara’s name on it, the ticket that wouldn’t get used after all. Because thinking about Kara still left a bitter taste in her mouth and a painful ache in her chest and this concert was supposed to take her mind off of all of that. This concert was supposed to take her mind off of the lies and the forced smiles and the strictly business professional meetings and the awkward silences that had never been there before. This concert was supposed to be 4 hours away from everyday life, away from keeping up appearances and over-working and exhaustion and sleeping in her bed alone. 

She’d planned to head to L Corp as soon as the concert ended, though, because leaving work early even just for one day the way she’d had to to make it to the concert on time made Lena a little anxious, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep unless she headed back to work for at least an hour or so after it was done. Knowing she’d have the entire building to herself just to focus for awhile almost made Lena excited. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to still be there after midnight anyway so that night would hardly have been an exception. 

That night had been supposed to end like any other night. Except it hadn't.

The day had been unusually warm for mid-May and there had been a feeling in the air that she couldn’t really describe. She’d had the balcony door open all afternoon at work, a warm breeze blowing through her office, the radio playing on low in the background as she worked. It had made her feel content; the winter just gone had been so long and that day had been the first day in a long time where she’d been reminded just how good it felt to have the sun on her skin.

She’d already seen her favourite artist perform before, two summers ago, but seeing her again had still felt like that very first time. The excitement had made her giddy, made her insides turn to butterflies, made her strikingly less aware of the empty space beside her as she made her way inside where Kara should have been, of the hand she shoved into her pocket because it felt strange and empty by her side without Kara’s to hold onto. 

When she’d finally made it to her seat, she’d almost forgotten about Kara completely anyway, because she suddenly hadn't been at all short of people to talk to. Two teenage girls on the row in front of her had turned around and chattered excitedly about how it was their first concert without their parents. Lena had smiled and taken a picture of them using the girl’s camera phone, felt warm inside at their squeals of excitement as they thanked her and uploaded the picture to their respective social media feeds. A woman to her left who was sitting with her young daughter had asked if she knew what time the artist was due onstage and it had lead to a lengthy conversation between the support acts about nonsensical things. 

It wasn’t like Lena to feel so comfortable in a room full of strangers, to talk to and chat to people she didn’t know without fear of them recognising her, but the energy in the air had been so infectious, and all of her usual anxieties and insecurities had started to feel insignificant. 

Everyone had been so happy, so excited. 

She remembers thinking to herself right there that concerts were one of the safest and most uplifting places in the entire world, where everyone was full of so much love. For each other. For the artist onstage. For life. 

She can’t stop thinking about those people now, about all the people she’d spoken to or made eye contact with or smiled at throughout the night. 

She wonders, hopes, prays that they made it out alive.

 _Alive_. 

She’s alive. She doesn’t know how or why, but she is.

The explosion that night had taken everyone by surprise. Of course, because no one expects one of the happiest nights of their life to end in terror.

She’d been on such a high, everyone had; everywhere she looked she’d seen smiles and heard laughter and people singing and dancing even though there was no music playing anymore. She’d smiled to herself at the sight of it all, at the atmosphere in the air that was so electric she could feel it running through her bones. She’d taken out her phone to text Sam, to let her know that the concert had ended and she’d be on her way home soon. Sam had asked Lena to let her know when it ended, because Sam was Sam and she was her best friend and Lena had only had to learn once what happened when she didn’t let her best friend know that she was home safe. Only she’d never actually got around to sending the text. The text that read _“Hey! I'm about to head out now so should be home in an hour or so. I've had the best time, I can't wait to annoy you by talking about it non-stop for the rest of my life ;) xo”_ was still sitting in her drafts on her phone, unsent. 

Lena had told Sam in the end that she never actually went to the concert after all, that she felt sick and stayed home instead, because it’s just easier that way and she doesn’t ask questions that Lena can’t answer. She knows Sam thinks she didn’t go because of Kara, because Kara was meant to go with her, and Lena just lets her think that. 

She’s barely looked at her phone for four days now. It isn't like her but every time she picks it up, she feels like throwing it across the room. So she’s started leaving it in her purse. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway. 

Closing her eyes, Lena tries to remember how to breathe normally. Her chest has taken to doing weird things the last few days and every now and then she realises she isn’t really inhaling properly and almost chokes on the lack of oxygen in her lungs.

And every time she coughs, she tastes the burning again. Tastes the smoke. The terror.

She gasps then, suddenly, standing up up quickly, needing some air. She lets herself out onto the balcony and collapses into one of the wooden chaises she keeps there, overlooking the city. 

She’d thought maybe the fresh air would help but it’s a Friday and the city is too loud as cities always are even though it’s nearing midnight and even when she covers her ears with her hands, she can still hear traffic and shouts and sirens on the streets below.

Sirens. So many sirens.

Screams. So many screams.

She can’t breathe. She needs to remember how to breathe.

Her palms are sweaty as she rubs them on her pants, and she swears she sees blood even though she knows there isn’t any, not anymore, because she’s washed the blood away. She’d got home that night and scrubbed her hands raw, until they stung, until there couldn't possibly have been even a single remnant left on them. But here, all of a sudden she can see it, the warm, red liquid smeared everywhere.

She fights back a sob. _Not now, not now, not now_.

She’s fine, she knows she’s fine because she isn’t there anymore, she’s home and her door is locked and her favourite show is on TV just metres away, but the panic is still there, writhing inside of her and she doesn’t know what to do. And suddenly it doesn’t matter whether her eyes are open or closed because all she can see either way are faces streamed with tears, with blood, with fear, bone chilling fear that makes her hands shake. 

Her hands shake and her head pounds and nausea swims around in her stomach and pins and needles run up and down her arms and every time she tries to take a breath, her brain forgets how. 

She knows she should call someone, Sam maybe or even Alex, but she can’t. She knows she’ll never get the words out. And anyway, everyone thinks she’s fine. She’s told every single person who has asked over the last few days that she’s fine.

She _is_ fine.

She’s alive.

She’s home and she’s safe and she isn’t hurt but _fuck_ , it doesn’t _matter_ , none of that matters because her brain just can’t stop reliving everything anyway. Reliving those moments right before she started reassuring everyone that she’s fine, and she realises right then and there that she really isn’t fine at all. 

Lena sucks in another mouthful of air, forcing her lungs to _please just work_ even when they protest and feels bile rise up in her throat.

She feels the muscles in her legs aching again, the way they'd ached as she’d laid in bed that night, unable to sleep even after walking the five miles home in a complete blur without even realising, the shock and adrenaline pumping through her veins and keeping her moving until she’d unlocked the door and collapsed in exhaustion. It hadn't mattered how far she walked though, time and distance meant absolutely nothing, because she can still hear the screams now, the sirens, the explosion itself. Everything had followed her home, followed her home so that she didn't even feel safe there anymore. She didn't feel safe anywhere.

She’s supposed to be able to cope with this; she’s a _Luthor_. Luthors are supposed to be able to cope with everything, with having a billion dollar company dropped on their shoulders at 24 years old, with people wanting them dead, with having a brother commit mass murder, with finding out that a best friend has been lying for almost two years. But this is unlike anything she’s ever experienced before.

She’d seen people _dying_ , watched them bleeding out on the floor, screaming and crying or not saying anything at all, and she hadn't been able to help them. She’d tried, but there were too many injured, and there were too many people pushing their way out of the few exits and she was just a Luthor (even Kara thinks so), and they probably wouldn’t have wanted her help anyway and eventually she’d ended up getting dragged along with the crowd for fear of being trampled and suffocated otherwise, and after that it had taken every ounce of her strength just to focus on getting out of the building where the air wasn't thick with smoke. 

She hadn't even looked back. She’d just left them. And it didn’t matter that realistically she knew Kara would be there soon, that Supergirl would help them, Lena _should have done something_. It hadn't really hit her until she was miles away that she should have done something. And then the blood on her hands that she hadn't even realised was there had started to feel like it was burning, not because she was hurt, but because someone else was, had been, and she hadn't helped them. The blood on her hands had stung like it was coming from inside her, but it wasn't, it wasn't her blood, it was someone else’s, another person she hadn't been able to help.

 _She just hadn't helped them_. 

She'd saved herself and left.

And she can’t stop thinking about it.

The guilt is tearing her up inside and making it hard to breathe again. Guilt that feels like it's eating her alive because she’s fine, she’s alive, she’s safe, and so many other people aren’t.

She hadn’t even looked back.

Lena chokes on another failed breath, gasps loudly, clutches her chest until she feels her nails dig into the skin, like she’s trying to claw it out of herself.

She can hear a banging sound and in the back of her mind something is telling her that it’s just the door, someone is knocking on her door, but it feels too loud, everything feels too loud and her ears are starting to ring again and every time she inhales she expects to taste smoke. But the taste doesn’t come, and suddenly she isn’t alone anymore and she can hear someone saying her name.

“Lena.”

It’s Kara. And it isn’t a question, she isn’t asking her anything, she’s just saying her name.

“I'm fine.”

Lena hears herself lying even with her hands still over her ears and the echoing ringing sound in them and she doesn’t even know why. She _isn’t_ fine. Of course she isn’t fine. And she knows that Kara knows that. 

Kara has always known that. She’s known since the moment Lena finally made it back to her apartment at 2:30am after the attack. Lena had pretended she didn’t see the flutter of Kara’s cape by her window as she made herself some tea and then closed the door to her bedroom without a sound. Lena pretended that Kara couldn’t hear as she cried for hours after that, because pretending Kara didn’t know was so much easier than knowing that she did, but couldn’t comfort her regardless. Because Lena had _asked_ that of her. And Kara always keeps her promises. 

The day after the attack, Lena had gone into work like nothing was wrong. It was a Wednesday, and she liked to spend the day at CatCo on Wednesdays, and maybe Lena Luthor still didn’t know how to take care of herself in times of stress and trauma. When Lena had arrived, early as always, Kara was already there, sitting behind her desk working, almost as though she had been waiting for her. 

She’d looked up as Lena crossed the floor and made for her office, and their gazes had caught in the dim morning light, the pain and loss and emptiness in Lena’s eyes almost identical to that in Kara’s, and Lena had almost thought that Kara would say something. But she hadn’t, of course, because this was their new normal after their fight, after the lies and betrayal had finally caught up with both of them in a crescendo of yelling and crying and hurtful words. Lena had wanted to ask if Kara was okay. She had known just from one news report that people had died that night, and she knew how heavily that burden always laid on Kara’s heart. But she hadn’t asked in the end, because she hadn’t known how anymore, and she’d pretended it didn’t hurt when Kara had looked back down at her computer without saying a word. 

Lena hasn’t been to work since. She hasn’t been able to face it. It being both Kara and the panic that follows her everywhere that she can’t escape from. The panic and terror that threatens to swallow her whole any moment. 

“Lena,” Kara says again, softer, quieter, and Lena knows she should respond but she _can’t_. 

She just stays sitting there on the wooden chair in the darkness of her balcony with her hands over her ears trying to forget that she exists, her chest tightening and loosening, her eyes squeezed shut.

She doesn’t know how long she stays that way. Time has really stopped meaning anything since that Tuesday night. She knows some time has passed though, because when she finally feels able to uncover her ears and open her eyes, the city really isn’t so loud anymore and a lot of the lights in the building opposite hers have been turned off, blinds and curtains drawn for the night. She wonders absentmindedly who lives behind those windows. She wonders if they can sleep at night.

“Lena?”

It’s definitely a question now. She looks up and faced Kara, not even trying to understand the expression on her face or why she’s even here when she hasn’t come over uninvited for so long.

Lena wants to tell Kara that she’s fine, but she can’t make herself lie anymore. Not after _everything_. And there really isn’t any point anyway. So instead she says, “I'm sorry,” even though that doesn’t make much sense either.

She hopes Kara will understand anyway. Kara usually does.

“Talk to me,” Kara whispers, taking Lena’s hand in hers.

Tentatively, hesitantly; it was never like this before.

Lena hadn't realised how cold she was until all she could feel was Kara’s warm skin closing around her fingers. She shivers involuntarily at the sensation, because it’s been so long, and she’s been fighting this part of her so hard; the part of her that remembers how much Kara feels like home. If Kara notices, which she probably does, she doesn’t say. She knows this should feel strange, given their circumstances, but she finds that it doesn’t. This is okay. This is and always will be okay.

“I was there. On Tuesday. I was there when it happened,” Lena says, not knowing where to start but starting anyway, starting with the part she’s sure Kara already knows. 

“I know. As soon as I heard, I knew you were there and I- “ Kara stops, sucks in a deep breath, her voice cracking, her grip on Lena’s hand tightening just enough to notice.  
“I know.” 

“Kara I… I didn't help them. I just walked. I didn't even look back.” 

Lena meets Kara’s eyes then, expecting judgement but knowing she won’t find it. Kara doesn’t speak, and Lena’s grateful. She knows there isn’t anything Kara can say that she wants to hear.

“When it happened, I was so terrified. My body just reacted and my brain wouldn't do anything except tell me to get out of there even though I wanted to stop and help people. So many people I could've…” Lena stops, needing to gather her thoughts before she cries again.

She knows she can cry in front of Kara. But she knows that if she starts crying, she'll never be able to get the words out.

“Every time I close my eyes I can see them. Crying and screaming and bleeding and literally dying right in front of my eyes. I can't make them go away. They're just there, everywhere. I can still taste the smoke in my mouth, still feel the blood on my hands but I don't even remember how it got there. Someone slammed a door at work yesterday and I had to run to the bathroom because I was so scared and the sound just took me right back to that moment, to the explosion and I— How do you do this, Kara? How do you do this everyday?” 

The more she talks, the more vivid the memories are becoming again and a new kind of pain is mixing itself in with everything else when she considers just how heavy Kara’s heart really is, just how much of this she carries with her everyday on top of the loss of a planet and everyone she’d ever known and loved. 

Lena can’t bear it. She’s tasting what feels like something not even close to the true velocity of Kara’s pain for the first time, and she’s already suffocating and suddenly all she wants is to forgive her. For everything. 

But she can’t because suddenly the sights and sounds and smells from the other night are enveloping her from the inside out, or the outside in, she isn’t sure.

“I can't breathe,” she manages to say, meeting Kara’s eyes again, knowing that her own are full of panic and fear.

Kara takes her other hand so that she’s holding onto both of them now and squeezes tightly.

“Hey, it's not real. None of it is real. Not anymore. Not right here. This-” she squeezes her hands again. “This is what's real. Focus on that. Focus on your hands. On my hands. They're real. That’s how we get through this, Lena.” 

She’s safe. She knows she is. And of course she’ll focus on her hands, on Kara’s hands; she hasn’t held Kara’s hand in so long. A new kind of pain creeps into her chest at that and she wants to pull away and hold on for dear life all at the same time.

She closes her eyes again. She doesn’t even know why but keeping them open is exhausting. She really doesn’t want to cry.

“It's okay,” she feels rather than hears Kara whisper, her voice so gentle and delicate that goosebumps erupt all over Lena’s skin.

Somewhere inside of her she knows those are the exact words she’s been needing to hear because all of a sudden she’s crying again but it feels different this time and there isn’t a force of nature on earth that can stop her right then and there from ending up in Kara’s arms, soaking her shirt with her tears, her warmth scooping Lena up and making her feel like Tuesday night is thousands of miles away in every sense of the term.

“I should have helped them, shouldn’t I?” Lena sobs, clinging to Kara’s shirt like her life depends on it. “And don't lie to me, Kara.” It probably does.

“Lena,” Kara shushes, one hand stroking soft circles into her lower back, trying to soothe her.

“Kara, please. Tell me I should have helped them! I need to hear you tell me that I should have helped them. The guilt is eating me alive and I just need to hear from someone else that I deserve it!”

She isn’t making sense again. She doesn’t know why she’s yelling at Kara. She doesn’t know anything anymore.

“You don't deserve it. Please don't-”

Kara trails off and instead just holds her tighter, wraps her arms so tightly around Lena that Lena finds herself being lifted up onto her lap and has no choice but to press her face right into Kara’s chest.

“Lena you— You did what you could. I know you feel like you could have done more, but you couldn't. You were a victim in this. It wasn't your place to be a hero. Not this time.” 

“I could! I could! I could have stopped and turned back at any point and helped someone, anyone. Even if physically their wounds were beyond my basic medical training, I could have held someone’s hand and stayed with them so they weren't alone! There were kids there. Children! Children without their parents who were screaming and crying and I could have helped them. I _should_ have helped them! I don't even know if they're alive. I haven't been able to watch the news or look at my phone because I'm terrified I'm going to see one of their faces and hear that they didn't make it and I know it won't be my fault but I'll blame myself anyway because I just walked away and left them there. And now I'm here and I'm safe and I should be happy because I'm alive but I’m not, I'm just not, and I feel guilty every time I realise that I'm breathing and it's just sick that part of me wishes I'd been injured too because then at least I might have a reason to still be feeling so messed up and terrified inside and—“

Kara cuts her off then by holding her even tighter, impossibly tighter, and Lena feels Kara’s chest convulse with a sob and realises she’s crying with her, for her and she knows it’s because Kara understands. She knows Kara understands everything she’s feeling, she knows in her bones that she does, and suddenly she doesn’t want to say anymore.

So she doesn’t.

She just lets Kara hold her. Lets herself be held.

Eventually, the sun starts to rise over the city.

 

 

Hours later, Lena’s dozing on Kara’s shoulder, enjoying the feeling of her heart rate being almost back to normal, of one of Kara’s hand carding through her hair, the other still stroking soothing circles into her lower back, the way she has been for hours now, when Kara whispers Lena’s name. 

Lena moves to sit up, but Kara holds her tightly, and Lena’s head falls back against Kara’s shoulder again, Kara’s hair blowing gently across Lena’s face in the soft morning breeze. “You okay?” Lena asks, breathing in the soothing scent of Kara’s shampoo. 

“I’m sorry. For what I said. For what I did. All of it. Everything. I lashed out at you and you didn’t deserve it and I never, ever should have used your last name against you. I crossed a line, Lena, and I’m so sorry and I’m not saying this because I want you to forgive me, but because I just need you to know. Okay?” Kara says, her voice quiet and sincere, so quiet and sincere that it makes Lena shiver even in the arms of the Kryptonian where she’s never felt warmer. “You’re so good, _so good_ , you’ve always been better than me. I was scared and hurt and angry and I know I was right to be, but it also wasn’t right of me to lump all of the blame on you. It wasn’t right of me to not even consider for a second how my actions might affect you, no matter how much I was hurting, no matter how much pain I was carrying or how many people I thought I was about to lose. It wasn’t right of me to stop trusting you, even for a second. It wasn’t right of me to lie to you, Lena. Not for as long as I did. Not ever.” 

Kara’s last sentence makes Lena shiver again, and she presses a soft kiss to Kara’s shoulder.

“It wasn’t, you’re right. But I lied too. I too said things that were hurtful because I was scared and angry and that doesn’t make any of my actions okay either, okay? We’re both at fault here. And I’m just sorry it’s taken such a tragic event for us to realise all of this.” 

Kara holds Lena tighter. Lena lets her. 

“I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you in the explosion,” Kara murmurs into Lena’s hair. “When I got there, I couldn’t even focus on anything until I knew you were out safe. I didn’t even—“ 

Lena shushes her, takes hold of the hand that’s carding through her hair and places it over her heart. “I’m here.” 

 

 

More hours pass. The sun rises fully. The city below them is as alive as ever, almost as if it doesn’t know that two best friends who are probably in love almost lost each other. Almost as if it doesn’t know that two best friends who are probably in love are finding each other again. 

“I do trust you, you know?” Lena whispers, her voice cutting into the silence that’s lying over them like a blanket. “I know I said that I didn’t before, but I do. I always have. I trust you. _All_ of you.” 

Kara’s breath hitches, and it almost sounds like a sob. “I don’t even trust myself much right now, Lena,” she whispers. “I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m hurting the people I love and going against my morals and I don’t recognise myself and I’ve— This is so hard, so much harder than I ever thought it would be and I don’t— I can’t bear it sometimes, it’s too much, there’s too much that people are asking of me, too much that I’m asking of myself and so many people that I can’t save no matter how hard I try and I keep failing at every turn and I—“ 

Kara breaks off, definite sobs escaping her now, and Lena wraps her arms around Kara’s body; her turn to hold her. 

Lena understands. 

“It’s okay, Kara. I’m here. We’ll get through this together,” Lena whispers, soft blonde waves falling through her fingertips. “We always do.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think! <3


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